The Magic in the Tree
by raleighlane
Summary: Emma and Hook have a little Christmas tree decorating fun. Takes place in vague future where the Snow Queen has been defeated and Hook has his heart back.


**Hello! This is my first foray into Once Upon a Time fic and the first fic I have written in several years. I hope you enjoy it! Please review if you do! I am also thinking about writing a little sequel/second chapter that would have Emma and Hook going on a much needed vacation. Let me know if you would be interested in that. It might stray into the 'M' realm, which is always fun... **

**The characters, settings and plotlines that you recognize from Once Upon a Time belong to ABC and the show's creators. I am just taking them out for a quick Christmassy romp :)**

Fat snowflakes fall from the sky, but the residents of Storybrooke hardly notice anymore. It has been abnormally wintery in Storybrooke for a long time, but the Snow Queen's 'always winter never Christmas' kind of cold is finally _finally_ over. Just in time for normal, natural winter to set in.

Emma Swan is more than ready for all of this cold and snow to just end, or barring that, she would be happy to settle for a tropical vacation somewhere far away from frigid Maine and all of this town's fairytale characters. Or at least most fairytale characters. She thinks she would like to see how Captain Hook would react to flying on an airplane, and she definitely would not mind seeing him stretched out next to her on a white sandy beach. But vacation is going to have to wait. Christmas is three weeks away and Henry could not be more excited for decorations, cookies and gifts. If it's important to Henry, it's important to Emma, which is why she is now bundled up against the cold and heading to find a Christmas tree with Captain Hook.

Killian steps out of Emma's car in front of the tree stand. "Tell me again what we're doing here again, Swan?"

Emma flicks her long blond hair over her shoulder and glances back at him. "Getting a Christmas tree, obviously."

"But why a tree? I don't understand the appeal of dead greenery," he replies.

"How can you have lived in this world for two years, give or take, and still not know about Christmas trees? Surely you've at least seen them around."

"Aye, I've seen them. I just don't understand why they're so important. There's no need for trees on a ship, Swan."

She doesn't answer him; she just turns to give him a brief, sympathetic look. She's still not comfortable with mentions of his ship. If she lets herself think about the enormity of the sacrifice he made for her in giving up the Jolly Roger, well...it just starts to feel a little heavy. She would prefer to keep things between them light, for now. She's not entirely sure how long she can keep that up though. He's got a way of getting under her skin and maybe into her heart.

Killian lets his hand trail down her spine and to rest in the small of her back as he pushes the gate to the tree stand open with his hook. They step into a pen crowded with evergreen trees and lit with hundreds of twinkling fairy lights strung overhead between tall poles. Emma is a bit overwhelmed by all the choices-balsam, fir, pine, spruce...who knew there were so many kinds of Christmas trees? She kind of wishes they'd brought Henry along. He'd be sure to have an opinion. But he is with Regina tonight and Emma wants to get a tree and decorate it as a surprise for him when he comes home tomorrow morning.

She runs her cold fingers through the needles of a pretty generic-looking tree. "This looks good, let's go with—" she turns to Killian, gesturing toward the tree, but he isn't there.

"Hook?" She heads toward the back of the tree lot and calls for him again.

She rounds the corner of a clump of trees and squeaks as a strong hand pulls her into the space between two huge evergreen trees. She registers the smell of sharp pine, wintery and clean, and something else far more exotic, like salt and sand, just before Killian's mouth descends on hers.

His lips are soft and warm, and she makes a satisfied sound in the back of her throat as she closes her eyes. He deepens the kiss, and in the smooth slide of his tongue against hers, she tastes the cinnamon and cocoa that they shared before leaving her apartment. Her hands come around his neck, and her fingers scratch through the short hair on the back of his head as he caresses her cheek with the back of his hand. She feels the cool metal of his myriad rings against her skin in delicious contrast to the rough burn of his stubble against her jaw.

When they pull apart, they are both a little winded. He imagines that he can see sparkles in her warm brown eyes, reflections of the fairy lights above them and the snowflakes drifting between them. He blows out a warm breath as she takes a half step back from him, putting a finger to her lips. They are still slick from his kiss.

"I well...uhm," she stammers, and he just smirks, a smug grin on his face.

"Yes, Swan?"

It's the smirk that helps her get her wits back. His ego is big enough already. She begins to think of all the ways she could render him speechless, and suddenly she really wants to be back in the privacy of her own home.

"Easy there sailor," she says, turning away from him and moving back toward the more moderately sized trees, "let's stay focused on the task at hand."

"As you wish. My apologies, Swan," he replies, smoothly. He doesn't look sorry at all. "You just looked too delectable to resist under these fairy lights."

She smiles to herself at his usual confident charm. "Let's just get one of these things and get out of here, hmm?"

She turns to a tree, seemingly at random now, and quickly pays the proprietor who materializes to wrap up the tree and help Killian carry it back to her car. The yellow beetle looks a little silly with the tree strapped on top, but they make it back across town and then into her apartment without incident.

Killian helps her fit the tree into its stand in her living room and then slices the netting off with one downward swipe of his hook. The tree springs into its natural shape and Killian steps back to view it, more than a little underwhelmed.

"So...now what?" he asks.

"Now we light it and decorate it. If we do it right, this thing should look pretty magical when we're done," she says, pulling jumbled strands of fairy lights from a box. "Do a girl a favor and wrap these around the tree? I'm going to make some more cocoa."

When she comes back in the room, he has just about finished with the lights. She realizes then that maybe it wasn't fair to ask him to do the task, one handed as he is, but he seems to have managed admirably, just as he does with everything else. "The moment of truth," she says as she steps forward, handing him his cocoa and plugging in the lights.

"Ah yes, very magical," Killian intones sardonically, when only one clump of the tree illuminates. He pours a liberal shot of rum into his cocoa and then takes a sip. When he pulls the mug away from his mouth, some whipped cream sticks to his upper lip.

Emma can't help herself, as she smiles and then closes the distance between them to kiss away that whipped cream. She tastes cinnamon and a hint of alcohol and something that she can't define but is so very Killian, and she promptly loses all interest in the tree.

Killian eagerly responds to the kiss. He breaks contact with her lips for a moment to set his cocoa on a side table. She does the same. Then his hook is in the small of her back, urging her body closer to his, her hand is in his hair again, and he is tracing a line of sugary, open mouthed kisses along her neck. Emma slides her hand under his vest in response, and he shivers at the pleasure of the contact and the coolness of her hands. He backs her toward the couch and she falls onto it with a laugh. He follows her down, smiling eyes dark with desire.

"Who needs a magical tree, Swan? We can create all the magic I need right here on this couch," he says, as he lifts her loose sweater over her head.

"Ugh," she laughs as he busies himself with her bra clasp. "You are so corny. Seriously, did these lines work for you with the ladies back in the Enchanted—" she doesn't finish the thought as he dips his head to lavish attention upon her newly bared skin.

"I didn't need to rely on sweet words, Swan. Then or now. I do have other talents," he says. There was that self-satisfied smirk again. As he dips his head to continue his exploration of her body, Emma hooks a long leg between his and uses all of her strength to flip their positions on the couch so that she is on top of him.

"Oh yeah? She replies with a siren's smile, "well so do I."

**...**

Their mugs of hot chocolate have gone completely cold by the time they lie together much later, entwined, on the couch. Killian's hand draws lazy patterns across Emma's back as she starts to doze off. The meager glow from the clump of working lights in the abandoned Christmas tree shines weakly.

Killian surveys the pitiful scene. "I'm afraid we didn't do a very fine job with your boy's surprise, Swan. Perhaps we should get back to work."

Emma groans without lifting her head from his chest. "I forgot what a pain it can be to decorate a tree." Suddenly, she props herself up on one elbow as she extends the other hand toward the tree. Killian feels a sudden warmth emanate from her outstretched palm and hears, almost simultaneously, an electrical popping noise from the tree. Suddenly the entire tree is aglow with the twinkling fairy lights.

Emma smiles as she surveys her handiwork. They'll have to put the ornaments on in the morning, but at least now they won't have to fuss with finding spent fuses or burnt bulbs.

"You know, when you said that 'done right, the Christmas tree can look pretty magical,' I didn't realize you meant that decorating it would actually require using magic," he drawls.

"Oh it doesn't," she responds with a self-satisfied smirk, "but doing it this way frees us up to engage in other activities." She lowers her head to traces light kisses along his jaw, and he tightens his hold on her. "Any objection, Captain?"

"None at all, Swan," he says, rolling them over so that he hovers over her and can watch her eyes glow in the light from the now-bright tree. "Merry Christmas to me," he says softly, as he ducks his head to claim her mouth again.

It's a magical evening indeed.


End file.
